This is a little piece that I wrote when I should have been writing my hs_merlin entry for LJ, but you know – distractions!

My favourite pairing – Arthur/Gwaine! It was written for this prompt on kinkme_merlin;

Arthur can't take Gwaine anywhere!

Beta'd by my wonderful lady blue_eyed_1987.

Hope ye enjoy and reviews make my day – as long as they be nice, otherwise I cry! =D

The horses were tired, Arthur was tired and Gwaine was really tired of listening to him moan. How on Earth did Merlin cope with this every bloody day? Luckily for Merlin, and very unfortunately for Gwaine – Gaius had needed Merlin today as there had been an outbreak of the some infection in the lower town. So Gwaine, lucky lucky Gwaine, had to accompany the Prince alone to some outlying villages that were having problems with some bandits.

Of course there hadn't been any bandits, there had been some very mischievous children that Gwaine had taken a few pointers from – just to liven up life within the castle! It was a very quiet life – aside from the battles and wars and whatnot – living in Camelot and being one of the knights. For having this great honour bestowed upon him, by the Princess, Gwaine had to leave him fun-loving, carefree, philandering ways behind because he had conduct himself in a manner befitting his station. Gwaine still wasn't sure what exactly Leon had meant by that, Percival – bless him! – had tried his best to explain but it seemed that the general idea of the statement had been that he couldn't get drunk every night of the week, he couldn't lift noble women's skirts (what other point was there in going to Court?) and gambling had to be kept to a minimum, he couldn't spend more than he made – as he now had a permanent residence and could in fact be found... he hated having to go and ask Arthur for money – no one else would give it to him – tail between his legs, asking his bloody Highness for some coins. Not a nice feeling at all, nor was all the cleaning he had to do afterwards! He was a knight of Camelot – he shouldn't be bloody polishing Arthur's boots, and why in the name of all that's holy did the man have so many pairs? He only had one pair of feet! Royalty, pfft!

Gwaine had often thought about leaving, but if he did that he wouldn't have the pleasure of Merlin's company, the pleasure of seeing Percival's muscles flexing, the pleasure of a bed and regular baths and awe of seeing Arthur on the training field and the rare but blinding smiles on that golden face. They were a joy to behold! And though a smile on Arthur's face, directed at Gwaine were few and far between, they were the highlight of his week.

However, he hadn't even received one today.

"There's an inn just ahead," Arthur said, pointing to a building a little way up the road.

"Thank God," Gwaine mumbled, he was dying to sit down with a flagon of ale and relax by a fire.

Arthur stopped his horse and began to dismount, Gwaine looked at him confusedly and didn't move.

"Well, come on!" Arthur snapped, glaring at him.

"It's just there," Gwaine said pointing, he was riding, not walking to that door.

"Yes," Arthur huffed, dropping his sword onto the ground and pulling at his belt. "But we're not going in in our uniform."

"Why the blazes not?" Gwaine huffed, wincing as he slid from the saddle.

"I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, and ruling Reagent – in case you've forgotten!"

"Not likely, Princess!"

Arthur glared at him, "I don't want to be recognised."

"Fine, whatever helps you sleep better and gets you to shut up." Gwaine said, pulling at his own chainmail.

"Gwaine!" Arthur snapped, "you cannot speak to me like that."

"Well I'm not going to bowing to you or calling you sire when we go in there, if you don't want to be recognised your Highness."

Arthur grumbled something that Gwaine didn't catch and continued to undress. Gwaine laughed when he got stuck in his chainmail before helping him off with it. He didn't even return the courtesy, though admittedly Gwaine was capable of dressing and undressing himself – he didn't need a manservant to do every little thing for him.

Once they were redressed in normal clothes, though Arthur's were a bit better than the average Joe's, they remounted and made their way to the inn.

"See to the horses," Arthur said, handing his reins to Gwaine.

"I'm not your bloody servant, see to him yourself!"

Arthur glared but didn't say anything and Gwaine smirked at his back.

A young boy appeared and took the horses, Arthur gave him a coin and smirked at Gwaine. "Come on," he said, gesturing to the door.

The heat that wafted out when Arthur pushed open the door to the inn, accompanied by the smell of stale ale, sweat and something cooking made Gwaine smile and think fondly of his past life. The noise inside, made up of clinking tankards, grumbling men and the roll of dice accompanied by the odd shout made Gwaine's heart clench – this was what he loved. Places like this.

The roaring fire with a mantle covered in empty jugs, goblets and tankards stood the far side of the room seemed familiar. So did the long counter and there was something niggling at him about the bar maid. Had he been here before?

Arthur stepped in and looked around, looking far to like a Lord surveying his demesne for Gwaine's liking if he was trying for incognito.

Gwaine followed him about to comment on not wanting to be recognised when a man stood at the far side of the room. An angry look on his face, and something all too familiar about the scar on his face.

Gwaine's heart stopped, he had been here before.

"You!" the scarred man roared, everyone fell silent and looked to where the man was pointing but Gwaine, tactful as ever had stepped behind Arthur.

"Me?" Arthur asked, bewildered pointing at himself.

Gwaine gripped the back of Arthur's tunic and hid behind his shoulder.

"No, not you blondie!" The man shouted, picking up an axe, of all things, off the table and pointing it towards Arthur. "That scoundrel hiding behind you."

"How dare you address me in such a manner!"

"Arthur," Gwaine hissed, as he felt the other man step forward and Gwaine desperately tried to hold onto him.

"How dare I?" The man mimicked, "Who do you think you are? The bleedin' king!" He laughed, stepping forward, axe in hand. There were two men, equally as large, flanking him one of them cracking his knuckles.

"No, I'm his..."

"Arthur!" Gwaine shouted, grabbing his shoulder and catching a glimpse of his face.

"Aye, you're right John, that is the little shit," another man said, standing up to join the three who were making their way forward, weapons raised.

"Arthur, run!" Gwaine shouted, grabbing onto the princes hand and pulling him towards the door.

As more men rose from their seats, weapons in hand, Arthur finally seemed to catch on to their unwelcome presence and turned, pushing Gwaine ahead and the two ran out the door.

"The horses," Arthur shouted, trying to tug Gwaine towards the stables.

"Forget the bloody horses, just run!"

"Gwaine!"

"Run!"

They both raced as the door to the inn banged open, a horde of men emerging, each looking ready to kill.

"My horse," Arthur panted, looking over his shoulder as he ran towards the line of trees.

"Forget the damn horse," Gwaine snapped, leaping into the dense foliage of the forest but not stopping. The men were pursuing, with weapons and torches.

"My armour!"

"You've got plenty of the stuff, easily replaceable if the amount of red cloaks you keep giving me is any indication."

"That's because you keep ruining your own ones."

"I don't like them," Gwaine panted, ducking to avoid getting slapped on the face with a low branch.

"It's your uniform," Arthur snapped, jumping over a tangle of raised roots.

"So?"

"So," Arthur pushed Gwaine out of the way of a large tree trunk he was about to crash into. "you are a knight of Camelot, God knows why I knighted you, but you must..."

"Princess, will you shut up and run! They're still behind us," Gwaine said, the sounds of the pursuing men beginning to fade but the light from their torches could still be seem through the thick foliage.

"I am running," Arthur snapped, hissing when a bramble caught his arm. "What I want to know is why I am running!"

"I've no idea," Gwaine said, leaping over a small stream with Arthur close on his heels. The canopy of the trees left them with little moonlight to navigate by.

"Gwaine!"

"Run!"

"Tell me," Arthur snapped, stumbling on some tree roots. Gwaine grabbed his arm to steady him and pulled him along once he had righted himself.

"He may be under the impression I slept with his wife..."

"Did you?"

"And his daughter..."

"Gwaine," Arthur hissed, as they came upon a ridge in the forest, a gully between two cliff faces and lots of boulders. Gwaine grabbed Arthur and pulled him into a secluded spot behind a large boulder nestled close to the cliff face, well hidden. They both collapsed, panting.

"Did you?" Arthur asked again, breathing quickly.

"That's not the point, besides I think he's probably more pissed off about the money," Gwaine stood up, taking a sneaky glance around the boulder. There was no noise or signs of light in the distance. He sank back down beside Arthur.

"The money?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"He thinks I cheated in a game of dice."

Arthur snorted, "you probably did."

"I did not! Just because he can't play well," Gwaine said indignantly.

"And the wife and daughter?"

"Just icing on the cake Princess, icing on the cake." Gwaine winked and Arthur rolled his eyes before settling his head back against the rock and closing his eyes.

Gwaine smiled at him, enjoying the quiet of the forest and the sight of Arthur bathed in moonlight. He looked beautiful, ethereal and Gwaine found himself relaxing.

"I wanted to sleep in a bed tonight," Arthur said suddenly, breaking Gwaine out his calm mood.

"Can't have everything, sweetheart."

Arthur opened his eyes and fixed Gwaine with a glare. "Not everything, no but something would be good!"

"You love camping," Gwaine said, sitting up. "You're always making us go on hunts and wanting to sleep out in the forest, last time I distinctly remember you saying that falling asleep under the stars is one of your favourite things!"

"I did not," Arthur huffed.

"You had drank a lot of wine, trust me, you said it."

"I didn't."

"You did, Princess," Gwaine leaned over and ruffled his hair – it was as soft as it looked, Arthur slapped his hand away. "I'm just indulging you, it was planned, a surprise for you. Sleeping out under the stars, out in nature, enjoying the peacefulness..."

Arthur hit him, hard.

"Planned? Getting chased through the forest by angry husbands, losing all our supplies and the horses."

"Will you shut up about the horses? We'll get them back tomorrow, after our lovely sleep out here in the wilderness, don't lie – you love it!"

Arthur settled back and glared at him.

"I do like camping, in fact I love it."

"Told you."

"I love having a nice warm fire, the banter between the knights, the wine, the ale, the tents, the bedrolls, the blankets and even Merlin's cooking!" His voice a crescendo until the last words were shouted.

Gwaine bit his lip.

"This," Arthur gestured around, "this, out in the forest with no fire, no blankets, no food, no water, no idea where we are and with you, is my idea of a bloody nightmare."

Arthur was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring with every breath and Gwaine knew he'd be polishing boots for the next month.

"It's going to be cold soon, and how am I supposed to sleep on this ground? Cold and dirty – I'm going to look a disgrace when we get back to Camelot tomorrow, if we get back and we're not eaten by some creature in the night. Can't see anything cause it's so dark."

Gwaine groaned and hit his head off the rock.

"And there's men out there looking for us, well for you. Two swords against twenty, we don't stand much of a chance."

"Good thing there's no fire for them to see then, isn't it?"

"Great thing, we'll just lie here in the cold and the dark. Freezing to death is so much better than dying by axe."

"We're not going to die." Gwaine moaned, hand over his eyes, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Who knows what's crawling around in this dirt. A bed, a very simple wish – nice and cosy, blankets and pillows. Actually, even a barn with some nice hay to lie on would be better than this."

"Will you shut up, I'm trying to sleep." Gwaine snapped, he opened his eyes to see Arthur lying down, hands behind his head and frown on his face.

"Sleep, out here, not likely. It's too cold to sleep, the damp is going to make me sick and then you'll have Merlin to contend with as well. He won't be happy. This would never have happened if he came along, even if we were out here, he'd have started a fire by now. Would produce some form of a blanket to cover me and keep me warm. Probably would even make some food from something and getting water so I wouldn't die of thirst..."

Gwaine did the only thing he could think of, life be damned. He kissed those outraged lips, just to stop them moving and emitting more complaints.

Arthur tensed below him as Gwaine pressed his lips firmly against the princes.

The man was rigid and Gwaine's mind raced. No doubt the executioner would be sharpening his axe as soon as they reached Camelot.

Gwaine's hands were on either side of Arthur's head and he pushed up a little, an inch between their lips now and he could see Arthur's eyes, wide open and shocked.

He felt Arthur's lips parting and could feel the deep breath he took, frown marring his handsome features and Gwaine dove back in, thrusting his tongue in between the parted lips. In for a copper, in for a gold.

Arthur's squawk was swallowed by Gwaine who relentlessly pushed his tongue against Arthur's, but the other man did nothing.

Gwaine pulled back again, thinking now would be a good time to run.

Arthur stared at him with crazy eyes, usually only reserved for Merlin before grabbing hold of Gwaine's tunic and pulling him back down and crashing his lips against Gwaine's. He bit Gwaine's bottom lip before sucking it between his own and Gwaine moaned, opening his mouth again and his heart soared when Arthur's tongue licked his lip before pushing into Gwaine's open and eager mouth.

Arthur moaned, hand reaching around to grab Gwaine's head to hold him in place as if he feared Gwaine would be going anywhere.

Gwaine cradled Arthur's face between his palms, kissing his prince as passionately as he could. Tongues tangling and fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips playfully and Gwaine lost himself in the taste and feel of Arthur.

He sucked Arthur's tongue into his mouth and massaged his own against it, drawing needy whines from the man below him.

He pulled back for air, looking down at Arthur whose pupils were blown and was breathing fast. Gwaine ran his tongue along Arthur's lips before diving back in and exploring every inch of Arthur's mouth – running his tongue along his uneven teeth, flicking it against the roof of his mouth. Arthur shifted restlessly below him, and Gwaine could feel his erection, long and hard against his thigh. He shifted and lay between Arthur's legs, pushing forward so that his own straining cock was aligned with Arthur's.

They both moaned at the friction and continued pillaging each other's mouths.

Arthur's hands moved to Gwaine's arse, pulling him against himself and thrusting up into Gwaine. The movements a delightful friction, sending sparks of pleasure through Gwaine.

He broke away from Arthur's lips and buried his face in the other man's neck, inhaling the sweet scent of Arthur. He continued grinding down into Arthur's crotch and Arthur gripped his arse tightly, panting below him.

Gwaine could feel his release building with their frenzied movements and he dragged his tongue along Arthur's neck, loving every sound the other man emitted.

The hands on his arse tightened, pulling Gwaine against Arthur faster and harder, as Arthur panted and moaned in Gwaine's ear.

As Gwaine felt his body tighten with his impending release, he bit down on Arthur's neck, gathering flesh between his teeth and sucking, lavishing the flesh with his tongue.

Arthur arched, throwing his back and dug his fingers so hard into flesh of Gwaine's arse that he was sure he would have souvenirs of this encounter for weeks to come. The cry that fell from his parted, glistening red lips was enough to send Gwaine over and he saw white as his orgasm was ripped from his body. The wet patch soaking through his breeches. He collapsed down onto Arthur and the other man's grip on his backside lessened.

They panted into each other's necks for some time before Arthur shifted beneath him.

"Get off me," He huffed and Gwaine rolled to the side, pulling Arthur with him and wrapping an arm around his waist as he guided Arthur to rest his head on Gwaine's chest.

Arthur obliged and curled into Gwaine's embrace, who lay with a shit eating grin on his face and stared at the stars.

"A bed would still be nice," Arthur mumbled a while later.

Gwaine groaned and slammed his head back against the floor of the forest.

The End.